Because my parents held themselves to a standard of perfection, they also taught that to me. Expected it from me. And when I didn’t deliver, I was met with disdain and unamusement (yes I made this word up). Disappointment, my most hated word. Then I internalized it, now expecting perfection from myself.
Later, when I made friendships, romantic entanglements, and had kids, I expected perfection from them as well.
But no one is perfect. Perfection doesn’t exist. And whoever said that perfection is the best anyway? Well, now that I think about it schools, work, and family/ friends environments do create that kind of atmosphere. But thinking for myself, I prefer imperfect, odd, unique, and silly things. I am amused by the creative ideas of others. One person’s perfection may be another’s imperfection and vice versa. We don’t all share the same ideals.
“The Black Swan” was all about perfection. I was so engrossed in the story that I forgot the time. When the movie ended, I was still in a hypnotic trance. My own reality wasn’t real. The last line in the move was, “It was perfect”.